“What does this delay mean?” snapped the lieutenant.  “Put him down at once and lay the lashes on!”

The unfortunate Kazimoto was pounced on by two askaris and thrown face-downward on the floor.  One of them tore off his clothes, ripping up his good English jacket.

“Did you hear my protest?” shouted Fred.  “Did you hear my notice of appeal?”

“I did,” said the lieutenant.  “Appeals are heard at the coast.  You must give notice by mail, and receive an acknowledgment from the higher military court before I grant stay of execution.  Lay on the lashes!”

“I will hold you personally liable for this outrage,” Fred told him, “if it costs me all my money and all the rest of my years!  I defy you to continue!”

“You have yourself to blame!” the lieutenant grinned.  “But for your uninvited interruption the Nyamwezi would have had a better hearing!  Lay those lashes on harder and more slowly!”

Kazimoto was taking his gruel like a man.  Two askaris were beating him.  The blows fell at random anywhere below the neck and above the heels, raising a great welt where they did not actually cut the skin.  He had buried his face in his forearms, and Will had gone to stand near him, stooping down to encourage him with any words at all that might seem to serve.

“Stick it out, Kazi!  We’ll stand by!  We won’t leave you down here!  Remember you’ve got friends who won’t desert you!”

Probably in his agony Kazimoto did not understand a word of it, but the lieutenant did,—­and swiftly took steps to interfere.

“Call the Europeans’ cases next!” he shouted, and promptly the German sergeants stepped down from the platform to marshal us in line.  The lieutenant went through the form of studying the blue papers, and called out our names.  That of Brown was included, but Brown was not in court and we were kept standing there until he had been fetched from his tent.  He had retired immediately after the hanging to sleep off the effects of his debauch, and being now deprived of that luxury arrived between two askaris in a volcanic temper.  He insulted the lieutenant to begin with.

“A diet o’ beer an’ sausage don’t seem to have filled you full o’ good manners, do it?”

The lieutenant scowled, but for the moment chose to ignore the pleasantry.

“You people are charged,” he said, “with entering German territory otherwise than by a regular road and without reporting at a customs station.  Further, with intending to defraud the customs—­with carrying and possessing arms without a license—­with being in possession of ammunition without a permit—­with shooting game without a license—­with filibustering—­with intentional homicide, in that you shot and killed certain men of the Masai tribe within German territory—­with wandering at large without permits and with felonious intent; and last, and this is the most serious charge, with being spies within the military meaning of that term.  Do you plead guilty or not guilty?”